Cold As Jade
by Bowtie Kitten
Summary: Cold. Distant. Dark. Deadly. All words that could be used to describe Jade Ngyuen. But she was so much more than that. How did the assassin, the deadly huntress, become so deadly? Read to discover the dark tale of a broken little girl in a harsh world.


**Hey, it's me! It's been forever since I've done anything and I've basically just cleaned out all of my fanfiction. I've been suffering personally and I have severe writer's block, so forgive me and take this new fanfiction as appeasement. I hope to update this weekly, but don't expect too much from a professional procrastinator. Be sure to review, favorite and follow.**

 **Without further ado, I present to you, Cold As Jade Prologue!**

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"Jade…I'm scared…"

The blonde turned her quivering face to gaze up at her sister, who subtly averted her eyes before speaking impassively, "Yeah? Well, why don't you go home and cry if you can't handle it? There's no point in you being here if your sole purpose isn't reaching the objective."

Jade turned away, fingering the cold sais in her hands, stroking the smooth metal with her index finger and struggling to remain cold and disconnected. Artemis needed to learn the harsh laws of the League of Shadows. She needed to understand that the only person she should look out for was herself. She needed to know that despite what their father said, they couldn't rely on him the way they could rely on themselves. After all, her motto _was_ every Crock for themselves.

So the raven-haired beauty flipped the weapons in her hands around and tucked them in into their sheaths in a seamless motion, gazing out into the shadowy alleyway where they expected the Operatives, (a.k.a. Mom and Dad) to rejoin them with the objective completed. From there they could make their getaway and return to Mission Control for further orders and wages. Jade scanned the alley for any sign of movement, any indication that there were enemy operatives or, dare she hope, her unscathed parents. The most she got was a rat scampering across the pavement, carrying a foul odor with it. Artemis opened her mouth to shriek, but the sound never came from her mouth, dying the gloved hand of her sister. The younger blonde gave an apologetic half-smile, receiving an encouraging twitch of the mouth.

Their moment was, of course, interrupted by none other than the sound of gunshots and the sound of breaking glass. Jade cursed herself for being caught off-guard and scanned the now-full alley for her parents. And there she saw her, the beautiful Huntress, with her costume streaked in blood and her face red with exhilaration, or possibly more blood. And then IT happened.

Neither Artemis nor Jade could have anticipated the awful turn of events, the unpleasant sound ringing in their ears, the seemingly thundering sound of Paula Crock's body hitting the ground and then, even worse, the sirens and the white cars signaling their exit. But they could not move. They stared and stared as an unknown force tried to pull them away. They struggled, trying to get back to the body where the Huntress laid. But the unknown force, their father, was strong and he was able to take them to the getaway car.

"Why would you do that? We could have saved her," Jade screamed.

Artemis sobbed, "Dad, she was still alive, we could have saved her!"

Jade let out an unearthly shriek and lunged at her father, her eyes red from tears and her rationality compromised by grief. He backhanded her away with a single blow and turned from them. The heartwarming sentiment one should give to two little girls who watched the mother be brutalized and then dragged away in a police car never came.

The years that followed were brutal, painful, and bloody. They trained and trained and trained, rewarded when they spoke little and did well, but punished when they dared to speak or had a moment of weakness. Some days when the pain was too much Artemis would whimper, crying for her mother until the cold boot of her father stopped her speech. The weeks after IT happened, Artemis would ask daily if they could see their mother, but she was given nothing in response but a strike on her face. The father who would actually put effort in acting as a family man was gone. In his place was Sportsmaster. And every day another part of Artemis died, while every day another part of Jade hardened.

On the day that IT happened, Jade changed it her motto.

"Every Crock girl for herself."


End file.
